So, Dean and Cas were... something. It was still way too new, way to weird, to put anything like a label on it, but it didn't matter. They were something, and Dean was determined as hell not to fuck it up like he fucked up everything else in his goddamn life.

So, he'd decided, he was going to get Cas a present. He had a vague sense that this was the kind of thing people did when they started relationships. Or maybe that was just on TV. Whatever.

He walked into the bookstore because it looked like the kind of place you could find a present for a nerd angel. He was hit immediately by the musty smell of ancient paper and a well-dressed, curly-haired man glaring at him like Dean had just run over his dog or something.

Aziraphale was having a pleasant afternoon sorting through his shop. He had already discovered several of his favorites among the shelves and was cataloging them carefully.

The bell tinkles as the door opens. Aziraphale is disappointed to see that it's not Crowley. Instead a man in flannel and a jacket comes in. He doesn't look bookish. He looks like the type of man who drives fast cars and likes to drink. Crowley's sort of person.

Worst of all he completely ignored the closed sign. Humans...

"We're closed." He says shortly to the man's question. He goes back to cataloging.

The guy behind the counter only looked up long enough to point out the closed sign on the door, which Dean hadn't seen coming in. He squinted at it, since it was squished in between a number of flyers and posters and other things pinned to the door, most of them mainly serving to cover up the much smaller sign that (maybe) read "Hours."

Dean shifted his weight, annoyed by the man's abrupt tone. "Door was open," he shrugged. "Look, this won't take long. I got this angel, uh, friend, and I'm looking to get him something. He's kind of a little nerdy dude, you know, so I thought, book."

Back in his own universe, he would never have called Cas an angel obviously, but people in the Hub rarely seemed bothered and he was even starting to get used to that. Stating the exact nature of his relationship with Cas, that was still a different story. Even if the dude glaring at him from behind the counter gave off a distinctly not-so-straight vibe.

"So," Dean added, putting on his most charming smile, "can you help me?"

Angel? Did the man mean literal angel or was it one of those cutesy nicknames humans liked to use? Aziraphale isn't used to the hub where angels are open about what they are. Still the only angels he's met are Castiel and Gabriel. He would be interested in meeting more.

"Angel?" He asks innocently.

He ignores the stranger's question for help. Whether the person he's shopping for is an angel or not doesn't matter. Aziraphale highly doubts that he wants a book for a present. And even if he does want a book Aziraphale is sure this isn't the only bookshop here.

"Yeah, angel, you know," Dean answered, then leveled his hand an inch or two shorter than his own height. "Warrior of god, bout yea high, blue eyes, wears a tan trench coat?" Obviously, this man had never heard of real angels, but Dean figured it didn't matter.

He sighed. "Look, he's kind of a nerdy dude, and I know he likes old books and stuff. I mean, I think I do." It seemed like something Cas would like, anyway, and he'd always seemed interested in the contents of the bunker library. More interested than Dean, anyway. He could already feel his goal of being a good...boyfriend or whatever slipping away. He closed his eyes for a moment then tried again, "I can pay, however you want. Just tell me you've got something."